Henry

by Mark Spencer
and Shawn Chiusano

part 4 of 6

Mom looked at Dog, her eyes kind of big. “You think it’s the repo man come for your Harley?”

“Repo man don’t ring no doorbells. He just steals your stuff and runs.”

The doorbell rang again.

Mom looked at me. “You get it.”

I went to the door and opened it. Dad and Jenny were standing there, Dad in civilian clothes and Jenny in a maternity dress and her long hair pulled back. She smiled at me, but it was kind of stiff, and I knew something was wrong.

“Hi, Henry,” Dad said.

“Hi, Henry.”

I nodded at them.

Mom came to the door. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been calling, Mona. I wanted to let you know we were coming over. Can we come in?”

Jenny said, “Hi, Mona,” but Mom acted like she didn’t see her, much less hear her. “What for?” she said staring at Dad.

“We need to have a family meeting.”

“A family meeting? We’re not a family. And if we ever were, she was sure as hell never part of it.”

“We’re all part of Henry’s life.”

I said, “You here to arrest me or something?”

“I’m just here as your dad, Henry. This time.”

“Why not save yourself another trip, and do it now.”

“What kind of trouble? I got a job interview.”

“She’s going to work at the Red Dog.”

“The Red Dog? Really, Mona?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Fine. Listen, I’m really concerned about Henry. Can we come in?”

Mom sighed loud and then stepped out of the way so they could come in.

Dad saw Dog on the sofa. “Hello, Larry.”

Dog got up, and they shook hands. “Hey, do me a favor. Don’t call me Larry.”

Dad nodded.

Mom said, “If she’s going to be here for this so-called family pow-wow, then Dog gets to be here too.”

Dad looked at me, and I shrugged. I didn’t care.

“Yeah, I was just givin’ the kid some fatherly advice a few minutes ago.”

“Fine,” Dad said.

They all sat down in the living room, Jenny next to Dad on the sofa, along with Dog, Mom in a chair, me standing and fidgeting and ready to bolt if I had to. Dog was really giving Jenny the eye like he wanted to jump in bones, big belly and all.

Jenny smiled at Mom. “I like the way you have your living room arranged. It’s so... practical.”

Mom’s eyes glinted like steak knives. “I guess you’ve never seen my house before, have you? It used to be Big Henry’s, too, you know.”

“Well, no, I’ve never been here before.”

“That’s good to know.” Mom looked at Dad. “So what’s up? What’s this all about?”

Jenny started staring at Dog’s chest, and he was eyeing her stork legs. “Hey, Jen, you starin’ at my tattoo?”

“I’m sorry. But what is that?”

“It’s okay. You can stare. It’s a Velociraptor.”

“Oh.”

“You can touch it.”

Mom’s face was redder by the second. “Why don’t you two go out on a date so you can get to know each other better. Now, what the hell are we here for?”

Brandi came through the front door and stopped, and her mouth dropped open. “What crazy crap is this?”

Dad said, “Brandi, hi. We’re—”

Mom said, “Have a seat. Your father has news. He’s here to arrest Henry or something.”

“I hope so.”

Brandi sat down on the floor next to Mom’s chair.

“Okay, here’s the situation,” Dad began. “Krebs filed another complaint. Says Henry paint balled his car last night and then came in his restaurant today and threatened his life.”

Dog grinned. “Way to go, kid.”

“I caught him looking at Brandi’s boobs.”

Dad put on his patient, kindly dad face. “Henry, you can’t stop people from looking at each other.”

“He paid her to show them to him. To show them naked to him. I caught them.”

“You saw them? You saw Brandi—”

“Yeah, she had her shirt undone and her... her... jugs all hanging out.”

Brandi’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning. “God, Henry, you make them sound huge.”

“This right, Brandy?” Dad asked.

“He offered me fifty bucks.” Then she turned to me. “You really think they’re big?”

“You’re such a whore, Brandi.”

“I didn’t even get my money, thanks to you. Again.”

Then Dad made his millionth mistake with Mom. “Mona, don’t you have any control over these kids?”

“They don’t listen to me.”

“What about setting an example? What kind of example are you setting for them?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

I said, “Yeah, what the hell does that mean?”

“Don’t you swear at me, young man.”

“Swear all you want, kid. That’s the kind of thing I teach you, isn’t it? To swear all the time? Threaten people’s lives. Go ahead, kid. Tell your father what a lousy mother I am.”

“Now, Mona, all I’m saying — ”

“I know what you’re saying. Brandi, tell your father how I’m training you to be a whore. Just like me.”

Brandi giggled. “Mom!”

“Oh, excuse me. Drunken whore. I forgot the drunken part.” She looked at me. “Who wants to work at the Red Dog.” Then she turned those steak knives onto Dad. “There you go, big guy, Mr. father-of-the-year. That what you wanted me to confess? Are you happy now?”

“Mona, I’m just concerned about our kids.”

“You weren’t so concerned about them when you walked out.”

“Mona, I couldn’t take it any more. I... I don’t want to talk about that. We’ve got to do something about Henry. Brandi, too, it sounds like.”

“Oh, yeah, Mr. Holy Joe comes over here to tell me I’m a lousy, no-good mother, and where the hell has he been?”

“I’ve wanted to be more involved in the kids’ lives. I want them to start coming over on weekends.”

Jenny piped up. “He really misses them. He says so all the time. It really depresses him.”

Mom slid her eyes over to Jenny and then put on a really evil grin. “Jenny, you look so cute in that outfit. So how old are you?”

“I’m—”

“You look so — oh, what’s the word? So... wholesome. Yeah, wholesome.”

Jenny was stiff as hell. “Thank you.”

“Mona, let’s get back on track. Henry’s on the verge of getting into some real trouble.”

“Wouldn’t make you look too good down at the station, now would it? To have a juvenile delinquent kid?”

“That’s not it. I love Henry.”

“Yes, Jenny, you certainly do look wholesome. Innocent. How old —?”

Dad said, “Mona ...”

“Wait. I want to ask Jenny something. Can I ask you something, Jenny?”

Jenny was trembling now, I swear. “Yes. Sure.”

“Thank you. Now I want everyone to listen to my question, and I want everyone to listen to her answer. I’m certain that someone who looks as wholesome as Jenny here couldn’t possibly tell a fib. We’ll all know that what she says is the truth.”

Dad sounded like a cop. “No games, Mona. We’re here to talk about Henry.”

“No game. Just a simple question. Simple answer. Yes or no. That simple. Are you ready, Jenny?”

Jenny’s face was pink and kind of sweaty looking. “Yes.”

Mom took her time, everybody looking at her and Jenny. “Okay, Miss Jenny. Here it is.” Mom looked at her long scarlet-painted fingernails. “Were you doing my husband before he left me?”

Everyone stared at Jenny, waiting. Brandi had her mouth hanging wide open, lapping up this whole scene like a big dog.

“Simple yes or no will do,” Mom said.

Dad said, “Mona, let’s stop this right now.”

Then Jenny lifted her head, swallowed, and very softly said, “Yes.”

Mom looked at her with a big, awful smile. “What dear? Can you speak up?”

I looked at Dad. “You were always accusing Mom.”

“Henry. Believe me, it’s not... was not a simple matter of right or wrong.”

I bolted. Man, I was outside all of a sudden and didn’t know how I got there. It was like I was beamed there. I felt kind of the way I did after I beat up Brandon — I thought I was going to puke. But I didn’t want to take the time to puke and I just kept moving. I jumped on my bike. My paintball gun was hanging from the handlebars.

Mom’s dad, Grandpa, used to come see us when we were a family. He really liked Dad and was mad at Mom when Dad left us, like it was her fault. Anyway, he used to come visit, and he always said I rode my bike like a bat out of hell. I never knew exactly what he meant, but I was thinking about that as I pedaled away from the house as hard as I could. I heard Dad yelling at my back. “Henry! Henry!” I just kept going.

In a couple of minutes, I heard a horn blowing and I looked around to see Dad and Jenny in their Camry.

I turned at the next intersection, hopped up onto the sidewalk, then turned up an alley, Dad chasing me all the way and laying on his horn. I’m sure people were gawking and making up their own stories about what was going on, but I didn’t see them because the whole world was a blur of colors and, anyway, I didn’t care. The wind scraped my face.

I crossed a lawn, then another and another, and I think somebody yelled at me, but I didn’t care. I knew I wanted to get to the park and the woods because Dad couldn’t follow me and I could get lost. I found a trail that crossed a field of grass somebody never cut, and soon I was zooming into the thick woods.

I was still pedaling hard, but it was getting dark and the world wasn’t a blur of colors much anymore. It was more a black smear, but I rode deeper and deeper into those woods until my front tire hit a big tree root, and I crashed. I flipped over the handlebars and splattered facedown on the ground. It would have been cool if I’d seen it on TV and if it had been somebody else and if I didn’t hurt like hell.

I just stayed there on my face for a while and cried like I was still some little kid. And the woods got darker and darker.

* * *

I finally decided I couldn’t just lie there forever being a baby, so I pushed my bike out of the woods. The front wheel was all screwed up. It wobbled. My paintball gun was scratched up but okay otherwise. I was thinking it was good that I was a small guy because if I’d been big the fall probably would have hurt worse.

Out in the open park, there was a big pond and a sidewalk that circled it, and along the sidewalk were tall streetlamps, and under them benches. Ducks were asleep along the shore of the pond. At first, I didn’t think there were any other people around, and I was just pushing my bike along through the patches of light cast by the streetlamps. I was worn out and limping a little and wondering what I was going to do. I thought about lying down and sleeping on a bench like a bum. I didn’t care.

Then without warning a couple of kids a little older than me appeared out of a dark patch. The girl was wearing a dress and trying to walk fast on heels to catch up with the guy, who was busy trying to light a cigarette. They passed right by me without looking at me.

“Hey, Don’t you... don’t you love me?” the girl said. “Huh? Don’t you?... Aaron?”

I stopped, looked after the two.

“Aaron. Aaron. Come on. Tell me you love me. I’ll do it again, Aaron. Just say it. Just ask for it. I’ll do anything you want.”

I stood there and my head was throbbing. Then I exploded. “Tell her! Tell her, jerk!”

The girl whirled around toward me and screeched, “Shut up, kid! It’s none of your business... So screw off. Screw you... Aaron, Aaron.”

I started walking again, and the girl’s voice faded, but I could still hear her, and the guy still hadn’t said a thing.

One of the streetlamps was broken, and the bench beneath it was almost completely invisible in the dark. I sat down on the bench, then lay down on it. I reached over my head, stretching, and touched something. I sat up, rolling some kind of silky material in my fingers. I carried it to a patch of light to see it better. It was a pair of panty hose.

Then from across the pond I heard the girl again. “I love you so much, Seth.”

“Man, you are some crazy chick,” the guy said.

I dropped the panty hose.

“You got any money?” the guy said to the girl.

I looked down at the panty hose, then picked them up and stuffed them into my pocket. I had an idea about what I wanted to do, what I had to do. I was sick of pushing my stupid broken-down bike, and I shoved it away and watched it fall over. It just plopped over like nothing. Man, I wished I had been sixteen and had a Trans Am or a Corvette or something.

Then I started walking fast, my paintball gun dangling from my belt and the panty hose in my pocket.

* * *

I stood in the shadows of the trash bins at the back of the Taco Yummy lot, watching. Inside, Edward, the ultimate geek boy, was mopping the floor in the dining area. A couple of other workers were finishing the cleaning of the grill area. Brandi had worked earlier, so she wasn’t there. The last two customers of the night were leaving.

I fidgeted like it was cold, but it wasn’t cold at all. It was summer and the asphalt was still hot from the sun burning down all day. I kept licking my lips, too.

After the two grill-area cleaners left the place, I took some deep breaths and mumbled to myself like a moron: “You can do this. You got to.”

I pulled one leg of the panty hose over my head. The other leg flopped in front of me until I twisted it around so that it drooped from the back of my head like a tail and hung half way down my back. I felt like an alien. Or a jester like kings had in olden times.

Then I took my paintball gun off my belt and knocked on the backdoor.

Geek Boy said, “Who is it?”

I just knocked again.

“That you, Wally?”

I kept knocking.

When he finally opened the door, I pushed him back from the door so that we were both inside.

I had my paintball gun in his face. Before I said anything, I swallowed and cleared my throat, and then I tried to sound like Arnold in that movie Raw Deal so that Edward wouldn’t recognize my voice. “Give me the money.”

“Hey, I don’t like people that push me.”

“Boo hoo, faggot.”

“Aren’t you kind of short for a bad guy? Who the hell are you trying to sound like? John Wayne?”

“Boo hoo, faggot.”

“I’m not a faggot.

“Get the money.”

“I want to make this clear. I’m not a faggot. I’m one hundred percent heterosexual.”

“The money!”

“And I’m night manager of this store, and as the sign at the drive-in window clearly states, the night manager has no large amounts of cash on hand. Are you literate? Can you read?”

“Bull. Where is it?”

“And... that’s only a paintball gun.”

“If I shoot you in the face, you’ll be blind for life.”

“The money’s in a safe with a timer. I can’t open it. Mr. Krebs opens the safe in the morning.”

“Show me.” My throat was already getting sore from talking like Arnold.

“Be my guest.”

We walked to the front counter.

“There.” He pointed to a safe under the counter.

“What about the cash drawers?”

“You needed to get here earlier for those. It’s all in the safe now. Timing is everything, kiddo.”

He reached under the counter and pulled his hand back quickly.

“What did you just do?”

“Did what? You know, you seem familiar.”

“No way, faggot. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. I’m not even from around here. I’m from, ah, Canada.”

“Are you homophobic? Are you maybe insecure about your own sexual orientation?”

“What?”

Then I heard sirens, and they were coming our way.

“What the hell? What the hell?”

“Silent alarm,” said the bastard.

I pushed my paintball gun toward his face, my hand trembling, but I didn’t shoot. I could have. But I didn’t. The sirens were getting louder every second. I bolted through the grill area and out the back door. I ran down an alley.

Behind me I heard Edward yelling in his faggoty voice, “Careful! He’s got a gun! He went out back!”

Footsteps were slamming the pavement behind me. A cop hollered, “Stop!”

But I was gone. Like a bat out of hell.

I climbed the privacy fence of a house, ran through the yard, climbed another fence, ran through more yards.

Then I was back in the park next to the pond. I pulled off the panty hose, stuffed a rock into them, and flung them into the water.

I was hunched over for a while with my hands on my knees, and I thought for sure I was going to puke, but I didn’t, and finally I just picked up my bike and started pushing it along the sidewalk, the front wheel wobbling.

* * *

To be continued...

Henry

by Mark Spencer and Shawn Chiusano

by Mark Spencer
and Shawn Chiusano